Drabbles
by letmefallasleep
Summary: A series of drabbles revolving around Daryl, mostly during the second season. What he's thinking during certain scenes, things that could've gone on during other scenes... Probably be some 'Caryl' later on, but just Daryl right now. 'M' For language
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Alright, so lately I've been coming up with a lot of little short Daryl scenes, and rather than try to fill them with filler (...) I figured I'd post them as drabble pieces. Three to start out with, because that's what I have already, probably more to follow.

Warnings: These are all general, or to be on the safe side, since I'll probably continue to add to this. So for now: Language, violence, the occasional angst

Disclaimer: I own nothing. : ' (

This first one is just how I thought Daryl would've felt when Lori's shooting off at the mouth, telling them all they wouldn't have done any better. Because I was thinking while watching this... why the hell did Rick tell Sophia to run back by herself? Why not just tell her to wait?

* * *

I'm 'bout to deck Ms. Olive Oyl right in the teeth if she don't shut her damn mouth. Talkin' 'bout shit she don't even know. How 'none a you' would've gone after Sophia, or done things any different.

_I_ would've. I _should've_. But I was scoutin' ahead. Lookin' for parts. Wasn't even fuckin' _there_.

An' yeah, that's on me. But the way she's lookin' at me specifically when she asks if anybody would've done it any different… Challengin' me to tell her she was wrong.

I know what this is. This is her assertin' her dominance over the pack. Rick an' Shane are gone… So she's tryin' to make herself leader of those a us left. Establish some sorta pecking order or some shit.

I don't challenge her. No point in it. If she don't know already, she'll figure out real damn quick that _nobody_ leads me. If it's a good plan, I'll go along with it. But I ain't listenin' to nobody jus' 'cause they got a ego problem, an' think they know best.

An' I _would've_ done different for Sophia. I ain't said nothin', but Rick tellin' her to make her way back to the highway? Shit. Should've just told her to stay hidden where she was. Wouldn't have been more dangerous there than it was with her runnin' 'round the woods with Walkers crawlin' all over. Should've told her to wait there, an' come back for her.

But hell… I would've had her hid, killed those sum bitch walkers right then an' there. Wouldn't a had to leave her. So I ain't the one gotta feel guilty here.

From the glares Ms. Queenie is sendin' me, I think she jus' 'bout got the idea that I don't care who she's sleepin' with, she ain't my leader. I follow her husband 'cause eight times outta ten, he makes a half-way decent choice. An' usually, I'm there to pick up the slack those two other times. But I don't follow him 'cause he's the leader.

She don't seem to realize that it ain't somethin' where Rick jus' waltzed on in, and declared himself King and Lord of all. Nah, he earned our respect –mine anyways –over time. Makin' halfway decent decisions. Hell, I could walk into camp tomorrow, with a plunger on my fuckin' head, and declare myself leader 'til I was blue in the face. Ain't gonna make no bit a difference if people don't wanna follow.

So yeah, maybe I'm a little pissy with the queen bee as we head back to camp. Like it's her God-given right to tell me what I can an' can't, should an' shouldn't do, all 'cause a who's dick she's suckin'.

Gotta admit… All those times she dropped back, wonderin' this, wonderin' that, provin' this point, makin' this speech… Kinda thought 'bout tellin' her to lead us back to the highway if _she_ was so goddamn smart. If she knew so fuckin' much.

An' I really, _really_ thought 'bout jus' lettin' her fall behind.

I'm almost positive I would've even gone back to get her later.

Almost.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Just an idea I had about the growing tension with Rick and Shane... We see Shane trying to comfort, or bully his way into getting the group on his side with everyone... Except Daryl. My idea of how well that would've gone.

"Look, you inbred hick… You _gotta_ know it. You ain't gonna find that little girl. And if you do… Well, don't none of us want to find her as one of those things."

Shane held his ground –which impressed even him a bit –even as the hunter stopped cleaning his bow long enough to turn his hard, cold gaze on him. And Shane was reminded why, of all the people in the camp, only _this _man was the viable threat. The only one he couldn't push or bully into seeing things his way.

"If that's your way a sayin' you want my help, it's a piss poor way a goin' 'bout it."

Shane took a deep breath, as he dropped to his feet next to the redneck's fire.

"Look, man, you're just making this harder on Carol. You really think that kid is still alive after nearly a week? Hell, she was afraid of her own damn shadow. What do you think she was gonna do out in the woods? At night? Alone? C'mon. You can't tell me you think she's still alive. Maybe back at the camp, for Carol's sake, but we're alone here. Just me and you, man to man. Tell me the truth."

Those cold eyes never left his, as the hick leaned back, stretching his arms above his head, almost casually. But Shane could see the slight tensing of muscles, the signs that this man was just a tiger ready to pounce.

"You want the truth, Mr. Po-lice man? I think you're full a shit. You don't give a damn what I think. You don't give a damn what anybody thinks, jus' so long as you get Rick outta the way, an' get Olive Oyl an' the kid back. That's been your end-game this whole damn time. Sophia, Carol… Hell, Andrea, Glen and Dale… All of 'em, they just get in your way. That's all this group is to you. A problem. Hell, if you seen Sophia alive in the woods, you'd put a bullet in her head just to whittle down the numbers."

That feral grin flashed across the shorter man's face again. "Shit… I think the only thing stopin' you from your own fucked up version of triage right now is you know you just ain't got the numbers. So instead of pussy-footin' around this like a couple a women, why don't you really tell me what you want. You know… all 'man-to-man' like."

Shane gritted his teeth in irritation. "Fine. I want you to stop looking for the damn brat. That much of what I said was true: we both know she ain't alive no more. She's either a rotting corpse, or a walking rotting corpse. An' you're right, I don't much care either way. But puttin' aside our differences, let's be honest here. All we're doin' is puttin' more of us at risk by goin' out there."

"You mean… puttin' you, and 'your' family at risk. We already established you don't give a rat's ass 'bout the rest of us."

Shane scoffed. "Oh don't give me that, man. You don't care about this group any more than I do, 'cept maybe Carol. Even that.. I ain't real sure how much of this is you just bein' a nice guy, or you dealin' with your own damn baggage."

Surprisingly, the yokel only grinned as he picked up his bow, and stood, chuckling a bit.

"What's so damn funny?" Shane bit out, knowing this conversation hadn't gone anywhere near the way he'd wanted it to.

"You thinkin' that bringin' my… what'd you call it, 'baggage' is gonna throw me off my game. Make me fold? Go along with you? Sorry, _Shaner_, but that's jus' hilarious.

"An' you know what? Yeah, I know chances are good that that little girl's dead. But if you so much as think 'bout breathin' that thought to her mother, so help me, I'll gut and skin you like a deer."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This started out with me wondering why Daryl was the one questioning Randall. At first I thought maybe he'd just went in, decided to do it, but Rick seemed well aware of it, so apparently, this was Daryl assigned job. Also, at the end, I noticed how Daryl's face got freaking scary when the kid started babbling about the father and daughters. So I thought it was pretty obvious that he didn't buy what the kid said about not being involved.

* * *

It's always me. That's all I can think as I knock this little shit head outta his chair. I'm the punisher. The executioner. The guy they have do all the dirty work.

Rick can't do it. Hell, Rick can barely kill a walker if it was somebody he knew. Shane? Shane talks a big talk. He could come in here and blast the kid, that I know. But to come in here, knock the kid around… torture him a 'lil bit? Nah, Shane couldn't do that. It's too personal. Killin' somebody's easy. Torturin' is a whole 'nother ball game. One neither a those two 'macho' men could do. Lookin' someone in the eye, an' then hurtin' 'em.

So here_ I_ am. Beatin' the hell outta a teenager.

Personally, I don't think the kid's any harm. But this group a his... Gotta know how many. From what Rick and the Asian said, they ain't exactly a friendly bunch. Sort of a… shoot first, question later group.

Which I guess I can understand. Except it's _my_ group they wanna be shootin'.

Livin' with Merle taught me a lot 'bout doin' shit like this… Best way to get answers outta somebody isn't to ask 'em what you wanna know. Not at first anyways. You always rough 'em up a bit first, so they know you serious when you finally do ask 'em somethin'.

Took the kid long enough to give me some sort a response. Wasn't 'til after I knocked him outta the damn chair, punched him a few more times in the head 'fore he finally spoke.

Even then… Had to start playin' real dirty 'fore the little shit gave me anythin' halfway useful.

Somethin' else Merle taught me… You get people scared enough, most times… you don't have to ask 'em no questions. They just start spoutin' off, tellin' you shit from when they was kids, just to keep you from goin' at 'em again. Anythin' just to keep from hurtin' more. Anythin' to keep you away from 'em.

Which is exactly what this kid does.

As soon as I heard him say 'daddy and two daughters', I felt it buildin' inside a me. I've done a lot a things I ain't real proud of… But I ain't never hurt a woman or a kid. Lotta lines I've crossed, but that's one… I ain't even gotten _close_ to that line.

Kid knew I was gettin' angry. Guess he could see it in my face or somethin'. I almost bought his pitiful 'the guys', 'them', and 'they' he kept spoutin' off. Startin' to think maybe this kid was just stupid, gotten hooked up with the wrong crowd.

But then… When he glanced up at me. Licked what was left of his lips a little when he talked 'bout 'em bein' teenagers. Bein' cute. I knew. I fuckin' _knew_.

Tried givin' me some bullshit. That that wasn't him. That he wasn't like that. Little fuckin' _liar_.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Alright, just a little something I thought of while watching... well, whatever the two episodes after Pretty Much Dead Already. This originally started out as something to explain why Daryl was so angry at Carol for not going to Sophia's funeral, but somewhere along the way... well, it changed a bit lol.

* * *

"Daryl, I understand that you're angry," Dale said passively, hands held in front of the hunter, either to calm him or stop him. Even Dale wasn't sure which at this point. "You poured your heart and soul into finding Sophia, but it's not Carol's fault. What happened isn't _anybody's_ fault."

The backhand sent Dale sprawling to the ground, a little amazed that a simple backhand could be so powerful. He braced himself for the follow up, but Daryl just paced restlessly, like a caged animal.

"The hell it isn't! It's all y'all's fault! It's our 'Great Leader's' fault for tellin' a 'lil girl to try an' make her way back to the highway, 'stead of jus' tellin' her to wait! Your damn fault the radiator blew in the first place! Everybody's fault that we all holed up here, waitin' for the fuckin' 'Chief's' kid to heal, an' gave up on Sophia!

"An' you!" He roared, turning his attention to the cowering woman on the other side of the fire pit. "You jus'… You let a bunch a _strangers_ bury your little girl! You jus' abandoned her! You didn't care! Hell, you shouldn't a let her out of you damn sight to begin with! You ain't no different! Leavin' her for strangers to take care of! People who didn't even know her!"

"Daryl!" Shane snapped, and for the first time ever, Dale was glad of the other man's presence, as the ex-cop stepped between Daryl, and the group. "That's enough!"

"An' you! You with your shit 'bout already bein' dead! You wanted her to be dead! You didn't give a damn 'bout Sophia!"

Shane took a deep breath, eyeing the tracker firmly. "Daryl, I get you're pissed. I understand that. But right here? Right now? This isn't the time, or the place, man. So walk it off!"

"Or what, big man? You gonna kill me?!" Daryl scoffed, planting his feet still for the first time.

Dale was back on his own feet, watching the two man stare each other down like a pair of junkyard dogs, sizing each other up, as Dale wondered if there was any way humanly possible to stop this. Nobody in the camp moved, all of them waiting.

And then…

"It's my fault too, Daryl."

All heads swung around, all eyes locking on Carl, sitting by the RV, head hung in shame, as tears dripped onto the ground.

"I was closest. I could've… could've pulled her under with me, instead of lettin' her get under the other car by herself. Could've warned her not to move. Told her to wait 'til we knew for sure they were gone. And you were right… Everybody got more focused on me bein' shot than finding her. So it's my fault too."

Nobody spoke for what seemed an eternity, before Daryl scoffed again, his stance loosening.

"An' that's what it comes down to, huh? All y'all can't step up, take responsibility for what y'all did, but we'll let the poor kid think it's his fault! The only one here willin' to say they made a mistake is the damn twelve year old?! You people are a real piece of work!" Daryl barked, before stomping through the camp.

Everybody else was too busy breathing sighs of relief, another crisis averted, to see. All except Dale.

The hunter didn't just leave camp. He'd stopped, only for a few seconds next to Carl, and his quiet words were only barely heard by the older man.

"Ain't your fault, kid. You did your best."

And despite himself –despite everything –Dale couldn't help the small smile that came to his face.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Something that irritated me with whole Randall thing was that the main reason for not killing him seemed to be just because he was young. And Dale -who I usually like -irritated me to no end with some of the stuff he said. So after a couple of different trial and errors, I came up with an alternative way that the whole 'voting' scene could've went.

* * *

"He's just a young man!" Dale pleaded again, trying to make everyone see reason.

Dale didn't even realize that Daryl had moved, until the hunter's smaller knife was sunk into the wall, a few inches away from where Dale's head had been.

Most of the women yelped. The men had guns drawn, looking for the threat. Then finally, all eyes turned to Daryl, who was standing there calmly, arms folded across his chest.

"The hell was that?!" Shane demanded angrily, shoving his gun back into the back of his pants.

"That was a demonstration," Daryl snorted. "You know when I learned to do that? I was 'bout nine years old. An' it seems to me like the only reason why any a you are even arguin' 'bout this is 'cause he's a 'kid'. Give me a break."

He turned his attention to Glen, eyes flashing dangerously. "How many people you killed lately, Chinaman? Or how 'bout you over there, Red?" He turned his gaze to Maggie. "Shit, ain't neither a you much older than he is.

"We was all '_kids'_ once, Dale," Daryl said through gritted teeth. "Hell, y'all wanna real great example? _Merle_ was 'jus' a kid' once too. Would any of y'all here want a eighteen year old _Merle_ walkin' around camp? Jus' 'cause you ain't got the years, don't mean you can't take those years from someone else. So if that's your best argument, I'd try somethin' a little different."

Dale turned back towards Rick, trying to ignore the glaring man standing just behind him.

"You… you once said, we don't kill the living," He begged quietly, almost daring their leader to contradict him. "We don't kill the living."

"That was before the living tried killin' us, Dale," Rick said quietly.

Dale couldn't believe his ears. Couldn't believe anything that was happening right then. Was everyone really so eager to kill a young man?

"But don't you see?" He asked tearfully. "If we go through with this… The people that we were? The world that we knew… is dead! And this new world is ugly, it's harsh, its survival of the fittest! And that's a world I don't want to live in," He finished quietly.

Once again, he was surprised by the hunter.

"Jesus, Dale, wake up. That's all this world is now, an' if you don't like it, you should've jus' stayed at the CDC with Jackie," Daryl said scornfully. "Jus' how far you think y'all would've gotten without Rick, Shane or me? If it was jus' you leadin' 'em? Y'all wouldda been dead! If the Walkers didn't getcha, people like that punk's friends wouldda! What, you think they ain't gonna bother you, 'cause you're _old_? Think they gonna leave the women an' kids alone, jus' 'cause they women an' kids?

"This ain't some walk in the park! Hell, screw survival of the fittest, it's kill or be killed out there right now! It's the _end_ of _world_, jus' in case you missed it! The world that y'all knew is dead! That train left a long time ago, an' if anybody hear can't accept that, ya might as well jus' 'opt out' right now, an' save us the trouble a feedin' ya."


End file.
